


scarves, etc.

by MTlesbian



Series: your sweater just fits me so well [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bondage, Canon Non-Binary Character, Fingerfucking, Light Dom/sub, Nonbinary Mollymauk Tealeaf, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Praise Kink, Trans Caleb Widogast, Trans Male Character, scarf bondage, she/her mollymauk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 03:30:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17593787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MTlesbian/pseuds/MTlesbian
Summary: "My god, Caleb!""I know, Mollymauk.""This - this is so many!"-Caleb gets help cleaning out his closet. Molly gets an idea.





	1. gently, to the event horizon

**Author's Note:**

> FIRST multi-chapter fic in this series! -claps- hopefully ill have time to finish this one up soon! i just really wanted to get something out there and felt this was a good stopping spot. enjoy!
> 
> this is the third in a series, but they do not need to be read in any particular order. this can be read alone! however, if you like this, i think you should check out the other ones too! they have similar themes!

"My god, Caleb!"

"I know, Mollymauk."

"This - this is so many!"

They're cleaning Caleb's room. Caleb finds it difficult to be productive whenever Molly's around, but it's especially difficult when she's making fun of him. Granted, he's probably pretty easy to make fun of with a pile of twenty something scarfs on his floor.

He huffs at Molly as she pulls a long, fluffy red-and-black plaid one from the bottom of the pile. "At least seven of these are yours."

She snorts, rolls her eyes as she wraps the thing over her shoulders. "You got me three of those, baby."

Caleb ignores her because she's right, choosing instead to rummage through the pile to find one of his favorites - a classic, one of the first scarves he ever owned, and it can be seen in the way the blue fabric has lost its color and torn in a few places. He absentmindedly plays with it, winding it around his hands and wrists and reveling in the familiar comfort of the fabric as Molly rants away about the state of his many scarves.

"Like maybe a quilt, or - oh."

Caleb pauses in his motions. "Hm? Sorry, Molly, what did you say?"

"I was giving suggestions for what we could do with all these scarves, but..." She takes his wrapped wrists in her hands and pulls them towards her chest. Caleb realizes what she means from the piercing, lustful, almost mischievous look in her eye. He can't keep eye contact, has to look away as she brings a hand up to pet his cheek. "You always said that you wanted me to tie you up, right love? Just that you don't like the texture of rope?"

He nods, leaning into her touch.

"I think these scarves might be the perfect solution to that problem."

"Ja, I would - I think I'd like that quite a bit."

She smiles, pats his cheek. "Perfect."

-

Over the next few days, they discuss the specifics, pick out particular scarves, and plan out the scene as a whole. They never get too specific but never leave major plays to be improvised either, always careful however eager they may also be.

Finally, the day comes. The selected scarves are laid out on Caleb's dresser, hung off his bookshelves, and a couple are draped over Molly's arm. Caleb sits on his bed, stripped down to his boxers, squirming from excitement and the pressure of Molly's gaze. 

"Ready?" she asks.

"Of course."

She approaches him, crossing the distance between them in two easy, confident strides. It's all part of the game; she could just as easily have started already behind him on the bed, ready to tie him up, but she knows how much the approach alone stimulates him. He gasps as her hands cup his face, firm, tipping his head up towards hers.

"You," she whispers, "are so handsome. Don't think I'll ever get tired of looking at you."

Caleb moans, shifting as he struggles to decide which hand to lean into. "Please," he says, "Please, ma'am"

"Of course, love," she says, moving her hands to grab him under his armpits, shifting him to sit entirely on the bed. "Let's get you situated."

She starts by adjusting his position. He lets her, putty in her guiding hands until he's on his knees, hands resting in his lap. His breath is already labored, thicker than air in his lungs as Molly shushes him, his head buried in her chest.

"Good boy, Caleb. You're doing so well, so good for me, love. Do you want me to tie you up now?"

He nods. "Ja, ma'am. Please."

Molly pats his cheek once more before leaning him back to sit fully on his knees. She hums a tune to herself, quiet but soothing as she takes his wrists in one hand. Picking up the first scarf - a plain, deep crimson, the softest one he has - she begins her delicate work.

The scarf is wrapped - loose, just enough to keep his hands together - once, twice around his wrists before she ties it off. The cinching of the knot is like a switch being turned off in Caleb's mind, and he feels himself leaning into the few points where Molly is touching him.

"That's good, love. Next one."

She sets his tied wrists back in his lap and takes up the next scarf. This one was a gift from Molly, deep blues and purples contrasted with pale yellows in a splotchy pattern on thin fabric. She loops it around his shoulders and torso, loosely binding his arms to his sides. He makes some sort of noise, pathetic, deep in his throat.

As if reading his mind, she says, "Stop thinking so harshly of yourself, Caleb. This isn't a bad thing, you're doing so well. Color?"

He swallows, takes a harsh breath through his nose. The comfort of her words lays a fuzzy, reassuring blanket over his mind. "Green."

"Wonderful, dear." She presses a kiss to his hair. "Three more, alright?"

He nods.

Molly pulls out two more scarves. One is a plain navy blue, while the other is pastel blue and pink checked. They were specifically selected for being identical in texture, Caleb recalls as Molly lifts his left leg just enough to thread the first scarf underneath, cinching the knot loosely and on top of his thigh, within reach if he wished to undo it himself. She repeats the motion on his other leg, and he is beyond grateful for their foresight as he is highly aware of the feeling of the two scarves keeping him on his knees. And, god, that thought alone nearly does him in, a week whine springing forth from his chest. He is really so comfortable like this, so pliant and safe in Molly's care. However much he desires, however needy he may be, she is always there to support and care for him.

"There's my good boy. Are you ready for the last one?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She reaches behind her and retrieves the final scarf. It is of a sheer but immensely soft red fabric. She folds and bunches it gently in her hands until it is of the size she wants, holding it up to his face once or twice to check her work. With a satisfied smile, she brings up the fabric to cover his eyes and, giving his ears and hair a wide berth, reaches around to tie it behind his head.

Caleb, now blindfolded, hears the fabric of the bedspread shift as she leans back. The fabric is sheer enough that he can see very basic shapes through it - as intended - and he smiles as Molly clasps her hands together with what he knows to be satisfaction with her work.

"Absolutely stunning, Caleb! You look so nice, all, all trussed up for me. Adorable." He gasps as her fingertips trail gently down his right arm. "Now to take care of you."

  
  



	2. she pulls me in, and keeps me close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every soft scrape of fingernails against his thighs or ticklish poke into his ribs sends him reeling, giggling into thin air.

Caleb likes to think he's smart, is sure that he's been with Molly long enough to anticipate her actions, but the sheer weight of his submission and the gentle grasp of the scarves on his body has left his mind entirely scrambled. Every soft scrape of fingernails against his thighs or ticklish poke into his ribs sends him reeling, giggling into thin air.

Molly coos at him the entire time, the lilting of her voice all the more emphasized by Caleb's inability to see.

"There's my good boy," she says as one hand trails down his stomach while the other squeezes his cheeks, forcing his lips to part. The sensation, pressure from three different sides, sends his head spinning and his dick absolutely throbbing. He realizes, almost with a laugh, that he certainly won't be able to ever wear these boxers again. 

The hand on his face leaves for a moment before he feels Molly's fingers push past his lips, just enough force to be dominating but not so much that he cannot feel that she's giving him an out, if he would want it. It's an unnecessary precaution, and Caleb tries to make that known by heartily sucking on her fingers. moaning as she begins to thrust them gently in and out, and -

There is a precise, firm pressure on his dick that sends a shock of pleasure bolting through his body. He squeals, loud despite the fingers in his mouth, as he takes a moment to realize that it's Molly's fingernail, prodding at him gently through his boxers.

He groans, mumbles desperately around the makeshift gag as the pads of Molly's fingers stroke agonizingly slowly and softly over his dick

She pulls her hand away from his mouth, and Caleb feels the phantom sensation of it brushing the back of his head, near the knot of the blindfold. "Everything alright, Caleb?"

He nods, frantically, drooling for a moment as he tries to regain his awareness. "Yes, ma'am - please. Please, I need - I need you to-"

"Oh, baby, I know, I know." The hand near the back of his head moves down to press against his upper back, while the sensation between his legs shifts from the precise touches of fingertips to the wide pressure of a palm. Caleb shudders, writhes in the grip of the scarves, all the more turned on for the restraint to his movement. 

"You ready?"

He gulps, the pressure of her palm against his dick alone almost too much for him to bear. "Ja - ma'am, please - I-"

He cuts himself off with a groan as Molly begins to rub against his dick in slow, smooth circles. "Come whenever you like, alright?" The smile in her voice is obvious, and Caleb shudders as he is reminded once more of their plan for this session.

His fingers twitch, shudder along with his hips and voice until they are reaching, grasping, and closing around Molly's wrist.

She moans. "Oh, fuck." He senses her presence as she gets closer to him, presses a wet, loving kiss to his cheek bone, then the side of his mouth, then square on his lips. "Oh, Caleb, good boy." The hand on his back moves away, leaving him whining at the loss of contact, straining at his bonds to hold her, to see her, to touch more of her -

But he really does love the restraint. He loves being taken care of by her, loves the gentle way she treats him, loves, loves, loves.

He can hear his moans getting louder, higher pitched as Molly's hand picks up speed. Her own breathing is getting ragged, and Caleb realizes she must be touching herself, too. That thought alone is enough to quite nearly push him over - 

But then Molly's hand pulls away.

Caleb wheezes, the lack of sensation sending a shock through his system. There is a pause while he regains his breath before he is met by the warm sensation of Molly's hand on his neck.

"How are we doing?"

"Molly," he whines.

"What? I told you you could -" Caleb does his best to frown in spite of his ragged breathing "- no, yeah, that's fair. But are you enjoying it?"

He is. The teasing leaves him sexually frustrated, but he really does love the dynamic of it all. His hands are tied so that they sit mere inches from his crotch; he could easily finish himself off whenever he wanted. But he doesn't because he trusts Molly to care for him, to make him feel good.

"Ja, ja, but the - uh - the blindfold."

"You want it off?"

"I want to see you."

"Shit," Molly mutters under her breath, and Caleb feels tugging at the knot at the back of his head for a moment before the fabric over his eyes falls away.

Molly pulls back, holding the scarf in her hands. Her hair is disheveled, clinging with sweat to her face. Her shirt sits disheveled on her shoulders, further disturbed by her erratic breathing. She is so beautiful, and Caleb is so in love.

All the sexual frustration in the world couldn't drown out the affection he's feeling.

"Did  _ you _ come?" he asks her.

Her smile sharpens into a grin, and she leans in to kiss him on the forehead. "Maybe."

"Molly..."

"Don't pout, love. Now I can pay more attention to you." Her hand reaches down into the ever shrinking space between them, and Caleb gasps as her fingers begin crawling down his boxes, pinching and tugging on his dick.

He groans, feels as its dragged into a whine by her touch. Already, brimming with desire and affection, he finds himself near the brink. He leans forward, strains against his bonds to capture Molly's lips in his. She meets him halfway, kissing his mouth without rhyme or reason - a short burst of pecks followed by a long, warm press of lips on his, alternating at her whim but all so full of love, so laden with affection. 

As he is drawn right up to the brink, Caleb does his best not to get his hopes up again, knows that she isn't finished with him yet. He's right, he's so right as Molly pulls her hand away once more. Caleb collapses against her, the scarves leaving him awkwardly bent as he searches for more contact. 

She pulls him in, pets his hair and back as she coos. "That's alright, baby, I know. I'm gonna take care of you, alright? You've earned it, you've been so good, I can tell you need it."

He really does.

She runs her hands down his arms, a thoughtful look on her face. "I'm concerned about your legs, Caleb. I think we should untie you a bit, alright?"

He nods, trusting Molly far more than his broken voice.

First she unties his legs, gently moving him to lay on his back. The motion draws attention to the ache in his knees to which he had originally paid no mind. He hisses, and Molly's brow turns up, sympathetic, as she massages his legs. "Sorry, baby. I promise I'll take good care of you once we're done."

Caleb gasps out a strained "Ja" as Molly settles between his legs, pulls down his boxers. 

She leans in, eagerness plain on her face but with a slowness that, like before, shows she's giving him an out if he needs one. He smiles back at her, and she dives right it.

One of her hands reaches up above his crotch, instead threading fingers with his own, still bound near the bottom of his stomach. Caleb's heart flutters, and he feels his grin split even wider

He gasps, then, as her other hand gets to work. The pad of her thumb settles agaisnt his dick, rubbing in slow circles as two of her fingers enter him. She starts slow, keeps him writhing and whining for a minute or two before she picks up speed, clearly intent on making him come.

In the moments before it happens, Caleb can barely keep his eyes open, can barely hear himself think over his own breathy moans. But he is coherent enough to look down at Molly. The concentration in her eyes is only matched by her obvious adoration, and the weight of it presses down against Caleb's heart and, and, and - 

He comes.

It is a burst of pleasure between his legs, behind his eyes, from the depths of his throat. Molly, with her dexterous, grounding hands pulls him through it, pausing in her motions for only long enough to lean up to kiss him, all over his face and mouth.

The force of it leaves him barely awake for a few minutes. Molly unties him the rest of the way, leaves him laying loose, comfortable on the bed as she cleans up the mess with a washcloth. He hears several plastic bottles land on the bedside table as Molly crawls up beside him, pulling him into her lap.

"How are we?"

Caleb smiles, laughs out a breath. "I think you broke me, Molly," he says, voice scratchy.

"Aww, noooo!" She leans down, kisses his temple. "I'm so sorry, dear, I just can't get enough you. Let me make it up?" She's already leaning over towards the table, grabbing the bottle of water. Caleb notices the other bottles - lotions, massage oils - and leans into Molly even more, so, so happy and in love.

"Ja, of course."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! as always, kudos if you enjoyed and comment if you can! feel free to check out the other fics in this series - theyre all a bit like this one! im also taking suggestions for future installments!! please comment down below if you have any!

**Author's Note:**

> THANK you for reading! i really hope you enjoyed! if you did, please kudos and maybe comment and/or check out the other fics in this series like this one! lots of love!!


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